


Familiar

by minwrathous



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Sexual Content, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-16 16:53:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 7,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18695533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minwrathous/pseuds/minwrathous
Summary: What if Warden Surana never undergoes the Joining? Another takes on the burden instead, leaving Surana to a different fate.Or, Zevran crosses paths with a mage. Again. And again. And again.





	1. Kinloch Hold

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this as a part of [ZevWarden Week 2017](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11705055/chapters/26627772), for the AU prompt. Later on, I introduced Nymm Surana into my FenHawke fic, [Tabula Rasa](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12325818/chapters/28024944). The universes are similar, but not quite the same. So, I decided to update and expand on this to make it match that Nymm.
> 
> The concept is one that I personally enjoy playing with in my head. “What if The Warden isn’t the one who becomes The Warden.” Basically...Surana never completed the Joining. Instead, Mahariel did.
> 
> What then?

Zevran feels a cool hand touching his brow. He hadn’t realized how hot it was before the hand was placed there. He tries to move, to lift his head. Where is he? What happened?? He had been in the middle of a fight, and now…

The Warden!

“Shh. Don’t move,” a voice says. Male. Cool, like the hand. “You’ve been injured. You need to lie still.”

Zevran settles down. “The Warden,” he croaks. His voice is harsh, his throat much too dry. “She…”

“Your friends aren’t here; they had to leave you because you were injured,” the man with the cool hand says, gently stroking Zevran’s forehead. Zevran can feel the healing magic flowing out from the hand. “They’re off trying to end all of this.”

Zevran remembers now.

Their party had arrived at Kinloch Hold and found the place overrun with demons and crazy blood mages. The Grey Warden - Kaya Mahariel - had insisted on going in to clear it out, and to help whatever survivors they could find. They had been in battle with a horde of snarling demons when Zevran had been struck from behind and…

Zevran opens his eyes and finds himself looking up a fellow elf. The elf looks young. His hair is snow white, and he has a worried expression and tired violet eyes.

_Oh_ , Zevran thinks. _His eyes_ …

Nymm.

Zevran finds out that the elven mage’s name is Nymm Surana, and that he survived the initial demon-fueled uprising because he’d been in an isolation cell when it all started. Nymm fidgets a little when he tells Zevran this. Zevran tells him not to worry; who is he to judge? It doesn’t matter what he’d done to get himself locked up. What matters is that Nymm had started helping others once he found his way out of his cell. Since then, he’s been hiding with a group of survivors in a large kitchen pantry, healing those he can and protecting the younger mages.

Nymm had been out scavenging for supplies with another apprentice when they’d stumbled across the Warden’s party. Zevran had been unconscious after taking a hard blow to the back of the head. That, combined with a deep gouge to his shoulder, had been enough to worry Warden Mahariel. 

So, the Warden had been forced to leave Zevran in Nymm’s care.

Nymm tells Zevran all of this as they sit and wait for the Warden to return. Or for the demons to finally take over. Or for Templars to burst in and murder them all. Any of the outcomes is just as likely as the other, so instead they focus on talking about anything else.

They talk about a lot of things - books, travel, embarrassing moments, favorite foods. None of it really matters, but it helps to pass the time. As they talk, Zevran realizes he’s starting to like this mage. It’s hard waiting, but the company isn’t bad. 

Finally, it is the Warden who comes knocking at the door. Zevran is very glad to see that his friends have been victorious. There’s some strange part of him that regrets leaving that pantry behind. But...the day has been saved, and the mages can be left to sort themselves out.

He bids farewell to Nymm.

When his group leaves the tower, there’s a new mage companion with them - an old woman named Wynne. For a moment, Zevran wishes that another white-haired healer had been able to come with them. 

But Nymm’s place is in the tower.

Zevran hopes that they don’t put him back in the cell; if there’s somebody else that’s earned a second chance, it’s Nymm Surana.


	2. Redcliffe

They do battle with hordes of the undead.

It is a messy and exhausting affair, and more than once, Zevran thinks that he will be joining the ranks of their deceased foes. Somehow they finally make it into the castle, only to find _more_ undead, an imprisoned blood mage in the basement, and one possessed lordling. Wonderful. Zevran wonders if anything will ever go right on this blasted quest.

When Warden Mahariel mutters that she’s sick of magic, Zevran can’t help but agree. But when they’re left trying to solve the problem of the boy’s demonic possession, the Warden surprises Zevran and decides to consult the mages at Kinloch Hold. It has to be a better idea than just trusting the blood mage, Jowan, or simply killing the boy, right? Well...Zevran doesn’t really agree there, but he defers to her decision.

Mahariel sends Leliana and Sten back to the Circle while the rest of them wait. Hopefully the undead stay dead long enough for them to make it back.

Sten and Leliana quickly return to Redcliffe with a small company of mages. Zevran is pleased to see a familiar white-haired elf among their ranks. It seems that they’ve kept him out of the cells after all. They catch one another’s eye and Nymm smiles at him.

Zevran notices how the other elf’s mood changes when they all convene to discuss what they should do. The Warden forces Jowan to explain his plan and Zevran finds himself watching Nymm’s face - his expression is cold and guarded. He looks deeply unhappy when the mages begin to decide who will save the boy. He barely meets Zevran’s eye and does not smile again.

Zevran wants to speak with him, but there’s no time. They’ve waited too long as it is, and the ritual must be done if they are to save Conner. When it comes time for the mages to begin their ritual preparation, it is Nymm Surana who steps forward to volunteer. He insists that he will be the one to go into the Fade. Zevran feels a pang of worry at this - how can they expect a healer to fight? 

But nobody argues. Warden Mahariel simply asks Nymm if he can do it. Nymm nods, and then shoots a particularly venomous look at Jowan, who quails under it. 

Mahariel agrees that Nymm will be the one to go.

Zevran silently watches as they prepare the ritual. It is just as Nymm holds his hands over a bowl of glowing liquid that he finally looks over to the assassin. Nymm manages a little smile and a tilt of his head. Before Zevran can respond, there is a rush of magic and a flash of light. Two of the other mages catch Nymm’s body before it hits the floor.

“Don’t fret, lad,” Zevran hears a voice behind him say. He realizes that he’d tried to rush forward toward Nymm and turns to find the First Enchanter looking at him. “He is stronger than you might think; he had one our best Harrowing performances.”

_Then why was he locked in a cell at the bottom of your tower?_ Zevran doesn’t ask. He turns away and says nothing instead.

The waiting is harder this time. Zevran wonders what will happen if Nymm fails. Will he die? If he comes back, will he be himself? Will the Templar standing watch near his cot rush forward to kill him? Hours tick by, and the mood in the room slowly blackens.

In the end, Zevran doesn’t have to worry about his “what ifs” - Nymm wakes up, a tired smile on his face. Soon after, Conner is declared free of possession. The day has been saved again. Congratulations are offered and gratitude is showered down on both the Warden’s party and the mages.

Later that night, Zevran has an idea... He pulls Nymm aside, and the two of them find an empty room in a wing that has been mostly untouched by the fighting. There, Zevran undresses the mage and offers some congratulations of his own.

Zevran is pleasantly surprised to find that Nymm is not the blushing virgin he expected; the sex is good. _Very_ good.

Zevran is also surprised to find a brief moment of tenderness after they’ve finished fucking. They remain on the bed, tangled up together, and share a long, slow kiss.

He finds himself thinking about that kiss long after they part ways.


	3. Denerim

Zevran knows that it’s very nearly the end. The Landsmeet is over and Alistair will be the King of Ferelden, provided the Wardens are actually able to slay the Archdemon. Forces are gathering in the city as they prepare to mount the final assault. The dwarven warriors arrived the day before, the Dalish archers that morning.

Zevran is eating his evening meal when the mages from Kinloch Hold arrive. The dining hall gets a little louder as the new arrivals flood in to eat after their long march. He looks around and is a little disappointed when he doesn’t see a familiar head of white hair. He goes back to his meal and finishes. Perhaps they needed Nymm to stay behind at the tower.

Ah well. He’ll just have to figure out where he can get a drink. Maybe he can sharpen his knives one more time.

“Hello again,” a familiar voice says before Zevran can stand. “We keep running into one another, don’t we?” Nymm sits down on the bench across from him. He looks a little better than the last time Zevran saw him. Still tired, but not so unhappy.

“Hello,” Zevran says, and smiles over at the mage. “I only regret that it always seems to be under such unfortunate circumstances.” This earns Zevran a chuckle.

That night, he sneaks Nymm into his quarters. Zevran’s lucky to be associated with Warden Mahariel; he knows it’s the only reason he has a room to himself. He counts his blessing as they take advantage of the privacy. This time, Zevran thinks it’s a little more like making love. They take things more slowly, and there’s a lot more of the kissing.

Zevran’s glad.

The next day is full of preparations, and the night is again reserved for the two of them. He does take the time to visit Mahariel; the elf is not taking her break with Alistair very well, and Zevran worries. There’s a strange look in her eyes when he leaves her, and he makes a note to check on her again before the battle commences.

Finally, it’s time. Nymm is away with his mages and Zevran is at his friends’ sides. It’s a fierce battle, much harder than anything they’ve faced before. Zevran is not with the Warden when she climbs to her doom; he has been ordered to hold the gate, along with Alistair.

He watches her go and realizes that he will never see her alive again.

Mahariel is triumphant in death, and her companions are left to cope with the victory she left for them.

Later that night, Nymm joins him in his room again. This time, the mage holds Zevran while he cries for his lost friend. It’s not something he’s proud of, but it’s something he needs. He’s grateful that Nymm seems to understand.

Zevran finds that he isn’t sure what to do with himself anymore; he’s a free man, but… He throws himself into helping the city recover from the Darkspawn attack. It’s good to have something to focus on. He finds ways to spend time with Nymm over the next few days, in between the cleaning and Nymm’s healing and the organizing of the keep. Eventually, it’s time for the mage to return to his tower.

“Come away with me,” Zevran says as they lie next to one another in his bed.

“I can’t,” Nymm replies, and looks at him sadly. “They’ll hunt me down.”

Zevran knows it’s true, as much as he wishes it wasn’t. The Templars of Kinloch Hold don’t take kindly to their mages slipping out of their stone prison. He knows the two of them have been living on borrowed time the past few days. And really, isn’t that the story of Zevran’s life? 

They make love one last time.


	4. Ferelden

Zevran leaves Ferelden a few weeks after Mahariel’s funeral. He returns home so he can settle a few debts. He cuts a bloody swath through the Crows and makes them think twice about crossing him again. From now on, he’s a free agent.

Sometimes he thinks about sending a letter to Nymm, but he never acts on it.

Later that year he ends up returning to Ferelden so he can sort out some business in Denerim. One thing leads to another and he finds himself traveling to Kinloch Hold. He’s welcomed there as a guest (and friend of the King), though some of the Templars are loathe to allow him to stay.

‘Important Royal Business’, he tells them.

One younger recruit asks his superior what sort of royal business involves the assassin bedding one of the Apprentices. There’s really no answer for that.

Things stay like this for a while - Zevran wanders the world, practicing his craft and doing his best to enjoy his freedom. Every year, he returns to Ferelden for the same ‘business’ with the Circle. (Some years, he visits more than once.) Before he leaves Kinloch Hold, he always offers to steal Nymm away.

It never works.

And then, six or seven visits later, Zevran arrives and finds that Nymm is no longer there.

“The Free Marches,” the First Enchanter tells him when he asks. “He’s gone to travel the Circles there, to help train healers. He should be back here in two years. Maybe three. By now, he should be in Starkhaven. Next is Kirkwall.”

Zevran notices how the First Enchanter’s face darkens a little when he says ‘Kirkwall’.


	5. Kirkwall

Zevran makes the decision to wait to see Nymm again. It’s too hard to gain access to Circles that don’t know him as a friend of the Hero of Ferelden and the King. Besides, this thing between them has lasted far longer than Zevran had thought it would. Maybe it’s finally run its course…

But fate seems to have a sense of humor, and he ends up outside of Kirkwall anyway.

Fate also decides that Zevran should meet the Champion of Kirkwall. Garrett Hawke is a bear of a man who wields both magic and jokes with the same ferocity. There’s a familiar face standing among the Champion’s closest companions - the ‘Queen of the Eastern Seas’   herself, Isabela. Zevran can only laugh at his own luck.

The Champion helps him with his Crow problem, but Zevran’s offer to have a little bit of fun with him afterward is quickly rebuffed. There’s a prickly white-haired elf at Hawke’s side who is very quick to warn Zevran off. Instead, Zevran finds himself sharing a bedroll with Isabela. She’s just as wicked as he remembered, and the two of them quickly ‘catch up’.

Afterward, while they’re sorting out their clothes, he asks Isabela about Kirkwall’s Circle. _Are the mages well-cared for? How hard would it be to visit?_

He doesn’t like her answers.

Zevran goes with Hawke to a place called the Gallows a few days later. The white-haired elf, Fenris, is there alongside them, bristling at every smile Zevran throws Hawke’s way. Zevran is amused, but doesn’t push his luck. Hawke has business with the woman in charge, and Zevran is only allowed in as a courtesy to Hawke.

Zevran is not included in the meeting with Knight-Commander Meredith. Alas. Instead, he wanders the Gallows courtyard and marvels at the fact he’s found somewhere more oppressive than the other Circle he’s visited. When he asks a Templar if there’s a healer from Ferelden present, the man sneers at him. There might be, but even if there is, nobody is allowed inside.

No, this place isn’t as open as Kinloch Hold, and that’s really saying something.

After he’s finished talking to one of the Tranquil merchants, Zevran finds that the Champion of Kirkwall has pulled a few strings for him. There’s a Templar gesturing him over to one of the gates. Standing next to the Templar is a familiar elf with white hair. Nymm is looking at Zevran like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. Zevran smiles and approaches.

“You again,” Nymm says. The Templar leaves them for a moment, though he doesn’t go far.

“I’m hard to get rid of,” Zevran replies, and reaches out to touch Nymm’s arm. He doesn’t like how thin he looks now, how tired. Nymm laughs at him, and it lights up his face.

The two of them talk quietly for a bit, standing close together near the gate. Zevran can feel his every action being scrutinized. Kirkwall’s Circle is different, Nymm tells him. It’s not a good place to be. He doubts that they’ll let him journey on to Ostwick like he should be, and he fears he’ll never get to leave. There’s also the looming threat of Tranquility, which is doled out with little thought or fairness.

“I should have let you steal me away before,” Nymm says softly. “But it’s too late for that now.” He smiles sadly and something in Zevran aches.

They embrace after a guard informs them their time is up. He kisses Nymm’s cheek once before the mage is forced back through the gate. Nymm pauses long enough to look back over his shoulder. 

Zevran raises a hand to wave to him.

“Friend of yours?” Hawke asks softly. Zevran was so focused on watching Nymm walk away that he hadn’t heard him approach. He hides his surprise behind a smile.

“Something like that,” Zevran replies.

“Sorry he’s here. I...wish there was more I could do,” Hawke says, and puts a comforting hand on Zevran’s shoulder.

“As do I,” Zevran replies.


	6. The Gallows

Zevran is back in Kirkwall a few months later. He’d heard rumblings of more trouble and had come as quickly as he could. He finds a city tensely balanced on the edge, just waiting for something to tip it over into chaos. And of course, it doesn’t take long.

Zevran watches as an explosion lights up the sky.

Well, that’d do it.

He finds himself back in the Gallows again, making his way through the fray. All around him, Templars are doing battle with desperate mages. There is so much death. Blood. Demons. It’s all familiar territory for Zevran, unfortunately. He does his best to stop and assist some of the mages when he can. 

Zevran finally catches up with the Champion and his companions. Hawke looks haggard, and on edge; there are bags under his eyes, blood in his hair, and his elven shadow is all but plastered to his side. Zevran offers his blades to the Champion’s cause and Hawke accepts him, no questions asked. He falls in line next to Isabela, who greets him with a gentle kiss to the cheek.

And so, Zevran fights along with the Champion’s group as they make their way to the woman at the center of this mess. He pauses every so often to check the corpses lining the halls. He’s not sure what he’ll do if he finds what he’s looking for here. Luckily, it doesn’t comes to pass; he doesn’t see Nymm Surana anywhere. Is he even still alive? The mage has survived in the past but…

Zevran steels himself for the worst. 

They make it to the middle of the Gallows, where Hawke confronts the Knight-Commander. Things take a turn for the worse rather quickly, and the woman in charge of the place starts to glow. Zevran wonders if his life could possibly get any stranger. Then, the giant statues lining the courtyard start attacking and Zevran immediately curses himself for jinxing it.

Of course, Zevran is knocked out by a particularly angry statue near the end of the fight. He isn’t conscious to witness Meredith turning into a living statue. But...maybe it’s better for him; the whole fight has been hard to believe even without _that_ spectacle. 

He wakes a few hours later to a cool hand touching his brow. Healing magic flows through him, easing the throbbing pain in his head. Oh! He remembers this touch. This magic. Zevran’s eyes snap open and he’s looking up into a face he recognizes.

“You know,” Nymm says. “You’ve really got to stop getting hit on the head. We can’t keep meeting like this.”

Zevran laughs and it feels like a weight has been lifted from him.


	7. Waking Sea

“Are you sure you must go?” Zevran asks. They’re standing against the rail of Isabela’s ship, looking at the coastline in the distance. They’re a week out of Kirkwall, having hitched a ride with Zevran’s favorite pirate queen.

“Yes,” Nymm says. “I’m an apostate now. An apostate who participated in the Kirkwall uprising. They’re going to come looking for me.” He sighs and rests his head on Zevran’s shoulder.

The past few days have been a mix of highs and lows. Being on the run has been hard for Nymm, but Zevran has been doing his best to ease the mage’s worries. Zevran’s lost count of the number of times they’ve made love. Despite the situation, it’s been almost nice. But now...

“The Gallows,” Zevran says with a frown. “They said most of the blood vials were destroyed.” He looks to Nymm, brow furrowed.

“Mine is back at home in Ferelden,” Nymm points out softly. “If I turn myself in there, I might not be punished.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Zevran says.

“I know,” Nymm. He lifts his head and turns to face Zevran.

“You...you said before that you wished I would have stolen you earlier.” Zevran reaches out and runs a finger over the shell of Nymm’s ear. “You’re stolen now. Stay.” Zevran hopes he doesn’t sound as desperate as he feels.

“I know,” Nymm says again, more softly. He reaches up and gently grasps Zevran’s hand.

“But things have changed. There’s a rumor that the mages may gather to dissolve the Circles. I saw what happened in Kirkwall; they’re going to need me.”

_ But I need you _ , Zevran doesn’t say.

In the end, he doesn’t convince Nymm to sail away with him. Instead, they make the journey to Amaranthine and leave him there on the docks. The Wardens will help him get back to Kinloch, and from there…

Zevran hopes he doesn’t end up back in that old cell.


	8. Rivain

Zevran is in Llomerryn when he hears news that the College of Mages has been disbanded. He hasn’t been back to Ferelden since leaving Nymm at the docks in Amaranthine. Is the mage safe in his tower again? 

Part of Zevran wonders if he’s even still alive.


	9. Antiva City

Zevran is back in Antiva City when he receives a series of letters from Nymm. He doesn’t know how the mage has managed to track his whereabouts from halfway across Thedas, but he’s pleased nonetheless.

The first letter is an update - Nymm says that he has been accepted back into the Circle, and he has joined a group of other mages trying to find a peaceful solution to their current troubles. He hopes Zevran is doing well.

The second letter is an apology - Nymm says that he regrets parting ways with the assassin, but it was something he had to do. Zevran curses Nymm’s sense of responsibility, but forgives him all the same.

The third and final letter is a promise - Nymm says that there’s going to be a meeting of mages soon, to discuss the College and the Circles. Nymm plans on being in attendance.  _ After this is over _ , Nymm writes.  _ I wouldn’t mind being stolen again. This time, I think I’ll let you keep me _ . 

Zevran feels something inside of him twist as he reads it. Unfortunately, he knows that this last letter has taken its time in getting to him. He also knows that the gathering didn’t work out; the mages are already in revolt.

He sets it aside and tries not to worry.

It almost works.


	10. Wycome

Zevran is in Wycome when the sky splits open. He doesn’t notice it; he’s busy on a job, and Wycome is very far from Haven. He hasn’t thought about Nymm in a while, though deep down he still hopes that the mage is alive.

He still carries the letters with him.

Word travels. The Conclave has been destroyed and the Divine herself is dead. Andraste has chosen a man who walked out from the Fade, and he’s gathering an army in the Frostbacks. An Inquisition, they call it.

Zevran dismisses most of it as gossip, though part of him worries about the larger ramifications. And maybe another part still worries about the mage.

A few days later, he receives a bird and wonders how in the world people keep finding him. He stops wondering when he realizes who it’s from. So, Leliana is involved in all the madness down south? 

Zevran thinks he might pay a visit after all.


	11. Skyhold

By the time Zevran is close to Haven, he finds out that it’s been buried under an avalanche. Of course it has. Well, no big loss there - he hadn’t liked that place the first time around. But the talk of some strange Darkspawn makes him uneasy. He hopes it’s just another rumor.

He is quickly directed to a new place in the Frostbacks called Skyhold. He’s loathe to travel farther in this cursed snow, but Zevran is a man of his word. He has already sworn to help Leliana, and help her he will.

He arrives at Skyhold cold and miserable. It’s an impressive castle, but he thinks they should probably invest in a better road. Upon noticing how much repair the castle itself needs, he understands the state of the road. He easily slips through the gates with a group of workers and makes his way to the tavern.

Things don’t seem as bad once his belly is full and he’s had a chance to warm up. The atmosphere around the keep is hopeful. These people have a purpose, and a great deal of loyalty toward their Inquisitor, who (much to Zevran’s surprise) is a qunari mercenary.

It feels odd to be an assassin joining such a positive operation. Odd, but good.

A little familiar too.

Zevran is leaving the tavern when he sees a group of mages walking through the courtyard. He’d noticed a few others earlier, but it only occurs to him now that they’re wandering the keep freely. He’s only seen a few Templars around, and he doesn’t think they’re there just to watch the mages. It’s strange, but he finds he likes it. He wishes… 

No. He’s stopped wishing.

His meeting with Leliana goes well, though he’s a little worried by his old friend; she’s not quite the soft-hearted bard he remembers. Still, she welcomes him to the Inquisition and says that the Inquisitor is looking forward to meeting him the next day. For now, though, she gives him directions to the small room he’s been assigned. As he leaves, he can’t help but get the feeling she’s smirking at him.

He finds his room easily enough, though he gets a strange look from a pair of mages that pass him in the dimly lit hallway. But it’s getting late, and he’s too drained from travel to care. He opens the door, steps inside, and then pauses. Something is off. There’s a small desk by the lone window that’s covered in books, as well as a pile of parchment and an inkwell. A folded pile of clothing is on the chair in the corner, and the bedclothes are rumpled.

This is already somebody’s room; he must have misheard Leliana’s instructions. 

Zevran turns to leave and nearly bumps into someone who is suddenly standing behind him.  _ Shit _ . He has no excuse for not noticing somebody getting that close! He takes a step back and is about to apologize when he finds himself looking into a pair of violet eyes.

“...oh,” Zevran says. 

“Oh,” Nymm agrees. His hair is longer now, held back from his face in a braid. He looks tired, but it’s the good kind of tired this time. 

“This is supposed to be my room,” Zevran says dumbly. He wants to reach out and touch Nymm, but he worries that this is somehow not real. He’s terrified that if he tries, the mage will disappear like a plume of smoke. He’s stopped letting himself wonder about this moment, and now that it’s here he doesn’t know what to do. 

“That’s funny,” Nymm says with a soft laugh. The laugh drives away the worries and something in Zevran is lifted up. “This room is already mine. Though…” Nymm breaks the spell by moving in and wrapping his arms around the still-frozen assassin. “I don’t mind sharing.”

Zevran relaxes into the embrace once he realizes that it’s  _ real _ . He buries his face against Nymm’s neck and breathes him in - he’s warm and solid and smells like elfroot and mint. They hold onto one another and Zevran feels lighter. Warmer.  _ Better. _

“Congratulations,” Nymm eventually murmurs. His hand caresses the back of Zevran’s head. “You found me. And this time, you didn’t even get knocked out first.”

Zevran laughs at that and pulls back from the embrace. He grins at the mage before grabbing his hand and dragging him back into his own room. The door is shut firmly behind them.

They have a lot to catch up on.


	12. The Healer's Room

“I got your last letter too late,” Zevran says. He lets his head rest back against the edge of the copper tub they are sharing.

“My letter?” Nymm asks. He is sitting in between Zevran’s legs and leaning back against his chest. Rather than immediately ravishing one another, they had instead opted to share a bath. Nymm’s magic keeps the water clean and warm while the two of them talk. It is very relaxing, and just what Zevran needs.

“Yes. You said that you were going to a meeting to discuss the College,” Zevran replies. He doesn’t bring up Nymm’s promise. Not yet. He also doesn’t mention that the letters are still in the pack he’d left over his pile of discarded clothes. “I got it after the revolt began. I...I had heard that there was bloodshed when it happened.” 

“There was,” Nymm says. “Everything went to shit and, well. I survived.” He sighs and turns his head to the side. His hair, long and let loose, tickles at Zevran’s chest. “It wasn’t my last letter though,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“What?” 

“I wrote to you after, when I was on the run. And again when I went to Redcliffe.” Nymm lifts a hand out of the water and studies his own fingers. “I stayed in the room where we fucked the first time, and penned the most dreadfully sentimental letter.” Zevran’s heart is beating a little faster and he worries that Nymm can hear it. He lets the other elf continue.

“I didn’t know where to send them anymore; I hardly had any money, and no idea if you were even in Antiva City. So I just sent them to an old contact you used to use. They probably laughed at them, then tossed them in the fire.” Nymm sighs and pulls his hand back into the water. It moves down to caress Zevran’s leg just as another surge of warmth flows out to heat the water.

“I never knew,” Zevran says, his throat dry. 

“Mm. It’s all right,” Nymm replies. “After a while, I’d write a letter and then just chuck them into the fire myself. That was after Redcliffe though.” Nymm sighs.

“Is that when you joined the Inquisition?” Zevran asks.

“Sort of?” Nymm replies. “I’ve been with it since it started - I was at the Conclave when _that_ went to shit too.” He laughs, and there is a touch of bitterness to it. 

“You have horrible luck, my dear,” Zevran says, and laughs as well. It’s pretty hard to believe all of the things that have happened to Nymm. Well, to both of them, really. Their paths have been winding together and apart and together again for years now. What does that mean for them _now_?

“Mm. It’s not _all_ bad,” Nymm says as his hand creeps up Zevran’s leg.

“I suppose not,” Zevran replies. He moves his own hand around to gently run down Nymm’s chest. His fingers do little circles around the mage’s belly, but refuse to go any lower. “So, you joined the Inquisition before there was an Inquisition.”

“I did,” Nymm says. “They needed me. They didn’t have many healers, let alone any other spirit healers.”

“Wait, what?” Zevran asks. While Zevran is vaguely aware of the different types of healing magic, this is the first time he’s heard anything about Nymm being a spirit healer.

Nymm explains it then. How he’d been fostering a link with a spirit of Diligence for years. How there had been so many injured mages to help at Redcliffe that he’d taxed himself to his limits. How he’d then finally forged the bond for good and become something _more_.

“You don’t feel any different,” Zevran says, and reaches back up to gently tweak one of Nymm’s nipples. He’s not scared of the elf leaning against him. Magic and spirits are a mage’s domain, and he trusts this particular mage more than any other. Besides, it’s hard to fear somebody who is splashing around and squirming after a little nipple pinch.

“I’m not,” Nymm grunts, and tries to keep himself from laughing. Zevran has moved to the other nipple. “Not really. I’m...still me.”

“Good,” Zevran says. That settles it then. He relents and leaves Nymm’s nipples alone.

“So you are you, and you are a very important man around here,” he teases. “Will somebody be cross with me if you’re unable to complete your duties tomorrow? I would prefer keeping you to myself as long as possible.” Zevran is joking, but part of him does mean it. Now that he is here with Nymm again, he is loathe to let him go.

“I wouldn’t call myself _that_ important,” Nymm replies. “So...don’t worry about it.” Nymm shifts and leans forward. A bit of water sloshes out of the tub as he turns around to face Zevran. “Besides, I can make up some sort of excuse.” He smiles as he leans in to press his lips to Zevran’s. 

They kiss, but the tub is too small for much more than that. Water slops over the edge as Nymm tries to get as close to Zevran as he can. He’s straddling Zevran, his half-hard cock pressing up against Zevran’s belly. “I’m yours for as long as you want me,” Nymm says, breaking the kiss.

“That’s a dangerous promise to make,” Zevran replies with a smirk.

They kiss again. Longer and deeper. The bath begins to cool, Nymm’s magic forgotten as he instead focuses on clinging to Zevran. Soon, they pull themselves out and make a cursory effort to towel themselves off.

They barely make it to the bed.

Zevran pauses long enough to reach into his bag for his ever-present vial of oil. He is quickly pulled down on top of Nymm for another kiss. The mage is warm and pliant underneath him. His hair, still damp from the bath, is spread out on his pillow. Zevran takes a moment to drink the sight of him in as they pause for breath.

Then, Nymm spreads his legs and Zevran slides down with his oil. The motion is familiar as he pours some onto one hand and spreads it over Nymm’s entrance. The mage moans low in his throat when Zevran presses a finger inside. Then another. Nymm’s cock is hard and flushed dark, and when Zevran crooks one of his fingers, it twitches.

“I missed you,” Nymm murmurs as Zevran slowly fingers him. Zevran shivers at the sound of his voice.

_I missed you too_ goes unsaid.

Zevran instead pulls his fingers out and moves to slick his own cock. Nymm lifts his head to watch him, prompting Zevran to take his time. He slowly works his hand up and down the shaft while Nymm stares at it, his eyes full of want. “Like what you see?” he asks the mage.

Nymm can’t hold back a laugh. “You know the answer to that,” Nymm replies, his gaze flicking up to Zevran’s face instead. They lock eyes for a second and Zevran’s breath catches in his throat. 

_Oh…_

Zevran breaks the spell by surging forward. He presses Nymm down into the bed as he practically flows over top of him. Nymm spreads his legs wider to allow Zevran space. Their cocks brush together and Zevran hisses. His lips find Nymm’s and the two of them kiss.

They move against each other, breath coming faster. Kisses becoming hungrier. 

Zevran reaches down between them and guides himself inside. He groans at the heat of it and lets his head hang down. Nymm sighs and reaches up to play with Zevran’s hair, shifting a little as he is slowly filled. Zevran bottoms out, his hips flush with Nymm’s ass.

Zevran is watching Nymm’s face - the expression he’s making is exquisite. His brow is slightly furrowed, and there’s a tension running through everything. But then his lips slowly part and he exhales. As he breathes in, his lips curve up into a subtle smile. Nymm’s brow softens and he opens his eyes as Zevran stares.

“Well,” Nymm says, voice shaking a little. His eyes lock onto Zevran’s. “You like what _you_ see?” Nymm asks, then slowly licks his lips.

“ _Amor_ ,” Zevran breathes, the word escaping like a sigh. Nymm tilts his head curiously.

Barely aware he’d spoken, Zevran leans in and presses a kiss to Nymm’s neck. “Always,” he whispers into Nymm’s ear.

Nymm laughs.

Then, Zevran begins to fuck him in earnest.

It’s just as good as Zevran remembers. Maybe better. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it, perhaps because he’d done his best to just...not think. Not hope.

But now Nymm is underneath him again. His legs are locking around Zevran. His hand is clutching at Zevran’s shoulder. His moans are in Zevran’s ear. His cock is held in Zevran’s hand.

Zevran loses himself in the rhythm and the sensation.

Nymm is the one who comes first. He throws his head back and gasps. His body clenches around Zevran’s cock and Zevran responds with an even harder thrust. As Nymm’s cock paints his belly with spend, Zevran fucks into him again and again. He quickly finds his own release and comes inside the other elf with a low groan.

Everything goes soft and blurry, and he is left panting and leaning over top of Nymm. After a moment, he feels Nymm’s hands running through his damp hair. “I think…” Nymm says. His voice is soft, unsure. His hand moves to cup Zevran’s cheek and Zevran leans into the touch. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Zevran freezes and everything snaps back into focus. He is looking down at Nymm, whose cheeks are flushed pink. His violet eyes are staring right back at him. Everything is still.

“What?” Zevran asks. He doesn’t notice that he’s still buried balls-deep inside of the other man, or that they’re lying naked and half-damp on his rumpled bed. All he can see are Nymm’s eyes.

“I think I love you,” Nymm repeats. There’s a flash of worry on his face. “Is that all right?”

_Love?_ What would Zevran know about love? He thought he’d been in love years ago, but he’d killed that love with his own hands and then done everything he could not to look back. He was an assassin. A former Crow. A jumped-up son of a whore, raised to fuck and kill.

Zevran looks away. What was love supposed to mean to _him_?

“I’m sorry,” Nymm says when Zevran doesn’t respond. “I’ve just made things strange between us, haven’t I?” He looks away and lets his hands slide from Zevran’s cheeks. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Forgive me...I…”

Zevran closes his eyes and pulls himself out of Nymm. He scoots back and crawls the short distance to the side of the bed. There’s a slight buzzing in his ears as he lets his legs hang down and sits with his back to Nymm. All he can hear are Nymm’s words repeating over and over.

_I think I love you. I think I love you. I think I… I..._

Zevran opens his eyes and stares at the floor. How could Nymm say such a thing? Where had it even come from? It...it didn’t make sense. What did he even expect Zevran to say in return? I love you too?

“Zevran?” Nymm says. His voice is soft. 

Zevran doesn’t answer.

There’s a hand on Zevran’s shoulder now. Warm, but trembling. Unsure. Zevran tenses under it. “I’m sorry,” Nymm says. “I...It’s just something I needed to say. I don’t expect anything more of you. And if you...if you don’t want to do this anymore, then that’s all right.”

Zevran bites his lip. He think about their first meeting - back in that cramped pantry that stank of fear and blood. He thinks about the years that have passed since then. How their lives have briefly touched as fate wove their paths together and apart. Together and apart. 

Zevran thinks about that hollow feeling he’s been carrying for some time - ever since the letters stopped and he began to consider Nymm truly dead and gone. That hollow feeling had left him the minute he entered this room. He’d thought it was just relief at finding an old friend alive. But...was it something more? 

Nymm begins to pull away. Before he can, Zevran’s hand darts up and snatches at it. “Wait,” Zevran says. “Just...wait.” Nymm stills.

“I don’t know what love should feel like,” Zevran says, still staring down at the floor. His fingers tighten around Nymm’s. “I am an assassin. A killer. I was raised to sell the illusion of love, nothing more. So when you say these words, I do not know what you want from me.”

“You,” Nymm says, his voice soft. “I just want you. Nothing more.”

“Me?” Zevran chokes back a laugh. 

He’s been wanted before, oh yes. But had it felt like this? No. Maybe it’s because people had always wanted something _from_ Zevran. His body. His wit. His skill. But...had they wanted _him_?

Zevran believes that Rinna had. 

Zevran might be starting to believe the man behind him does too.

He squeezes Nymm’s hand and takes a shaky breath before letting it go. Then, he turns to face him. Nymm is kneeling on the bed, body held cautiously taut. His eyes are wide and worried. And maybe just a little bit hopeful.

“I cannot say if what I feel is love,” Zevran says. He reaches out to touch Nymm’s lips. “But I...I feel _something_ ,” he admits. “And I do not wish to stop doing _this_. Whatever this is.” He pulls his finger away to gesture between them.

“...sex?” Nymm asks. He’s starting to smile, just a little.

“Sex,” Zevran agrees. “But also just being with you. Near you. I...what I am trying to say is that I missed you too, Nymm. More than I even realized. And now…” 

“Now you have me,” Nymm says. He leans in to wrap his arms around Zevran.

Zevran meets him halfway. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
